A Man Apart. Ginna Gray

have let him stay in here by himself for so long without bothering to check on him? The man had just gotten out of the hospital a few hours ago.

      Holding her breath, she moved closer to the bed. When she finally stood over him and spotted the steady rise and fall of his chest, she closed her eyes. Thank God. He had only fallen asleep.

      She opened her eyes and stepped even closer, intending to nudge him, but she hesitated. Tipping her head to one side, she took shameless advantage of his unguarded state to study him.

      As her gaze ran over his face, her own softened and her tender heart contracted. He looked so exhausted, so pale. So defenseless. How sad it was, she thought, for this proud, strong man to be reduced to a state of near helplessness.

      He had incredibly long eyelashes for a man, she noticed for the first time. They lay like feathery black fans against his skin. Beneath their sweep, bruiselike shadows formed dark circles under his eyes.

      Her eyes trailed down his body and her concern deepened. Though a big man, Matt had always kept himself trim, but now he looked much too thin.

      Never in a million years would she have thought to see Matt Dolan brought down to such a state. How very close he’d come to losing his life, Maude Ann thought. As her darling Tom had two years ago.

      Through Matt’s light blue shirt she could see the faint outline of a bandage on his right side and the bulge of another one beneath the denim covering his right thigh.

      They were sure to need changing regularly, yet she knew that any offer to help him would meet with a curt refusal.

      Suddenly Maude Ann realized that Matt must have fallen into a deep sleep, no doubt involuntarily, soon after making his telephone call. His sneakered feet were still flat on the floor and around his body the cream-colored chenille bedspread was undisturbed.

      Compassion softened her face. Poor man. The trip from Houston must have exhausted him. Apparently he hadn’t moved so much as a muscle in more than three hours.

      She hated to disturb him. Still, to regain his strength he needed nourishment. Bending over, she reached out to touch his shoulder, but she drew her hand back when he jerked and mumbled something in his sleep. From the way he was thrashing around on the bed, he appeared to be having a nightmare.

      “Detective? Detective Dolan, wake up.”

      His hand shot up like a striking snake and clamped around her wrist, and Maude Ann let out a shriek as she was jerked down on top of him.

      The sound cut off almost before it started as his other hand clamped over her mouth.

      Matt’s head came up off the mattress, and Maude Ann’s eyes widened above his fingers as she found herself looking into his dark, furious face, just inches from the end of her nose.

      His wounds may have weakened him, but there was still a surprising amount of strength left in those powerful arms and shoulders.

      “Just what the hell do you think you’re doing, sneaking around in my room?”

      She tried to answer, but her words came out in an indecipherable mumble against his palm. She gave up and glared at him, and he finally got the message and removed his hand.

      Maude Ann shook back her hair and tried for a haughty look, which was difficult to achieve when one was sprawled, half-dressed, on top of a man. “I was not sneaking around in your room,” she informed him. “I came in to tell you that dinner is ready.”

      “Yeah, right. Have you ever heard of knocking?”

      “I did knock. Several times. But you didn’t answer. I was worried that something had happened to you, so I came inside to check. You seemed to have been having a bad dream.”

      Those deep-set blue eyes narrowed as he searched her face for the truth. In the rosy glow of sunset they glittered like sapphires in his dark face. After a time he seemed to come to a decision and gave an almost imperceptible nod.

      “I’m fine, as you can see.” He paused, his eyes locked with hers. Suddenly the air seemed thick, and an odd tautness surrounded them. “And feel,” he added.

      Maude Ann’s eyes widened. Horrified, she realized several things at once. First, that he still gripped her right forearm in an unbreakable hold, and his other hand was splayed across her bottom. Second, not only was she sprawled on top of him, her bare right thigh was nestled intimately between his legs, and his body had responded to the contact. He might have been weakened by the gunshot wounds, but there was certainly nothing wrong with his sex drive.

      Heat raced through Maude Ann like a warm flood, and to her dismay, she felt her own body tighten. Even in the dim light, she could see that Matt was aware of her reaction.

      Color flooded her face. She told herself to get up, but she seemed to have lost the power of movement. She could feel his heat all along her body, his breath feathering her face, warm and moist, that masculine hand kneading her buttocks ever so slightly.

      Her own breathing was shallow and drew painfully through her constricted throat. With every labored breath her breasts swelled against the solid wall of his chest.

      Had her life depended on it, Maude Ann could not have looked away from his hot stare. Just when she thought she would surely burst into flames, Matt broke eye contact. She experienced a momentary relief, but when his gaze slid downward over her face and zeroed in on her mouth, her heart took off at a gallop.

      He stared at her lips for what seemed like forever. His eyes darkened. Maude Ann swallowed hard. Slowly, Matt tipped his head to one side and raised it closer to hers, and her heart began to boom.

      Her eyes drifted shut. She felt his breath caressing her mouth and her entire body tingled with anticipation. Before contact could be made the sound of clattering feet and high-pitched chatter announced the arrival of the children in the kitchen.

      Aghast, Maude Ann jerked back and tried to scramble off Matt, but at the first move he groaned. She froze.

      “Oh, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! Your wound! Did I hurt you?”

      A grimace contorted his face. “I’m…okay,” he ground out through gritted teeth. “Just…take it…slow and easy.”

      “Yes. Of course. I should have realized—”

      “Ah, jeez! Watch that knee, will you?”

      A fresh wave of color climbed Maude Ann’s face, but she bit her lower lip and eased up off him. She was acutely conscious of the open door and the children taking their places at the table in the next room, of Jane issuing orders. She prayed that no one looked this way, or if they did, that they couldn’t see anything in the fading light.

      With excruciating slowness, she got to her knees beside him on the mattress, then backed off the bed and regained her feet. She smoothed her hair away from her face and brushed at her shorts, more out of nervousness than need.

      Then she noticed that Matt still lay flat on his back with his eyes closed and his face contorted.

      “Are you all right? Do you need help getting up?” She stepped closer and held out her hand, but he opened his eyes and gave her a baleful look.

      “No, I don’t need your help,” he growled. “I’m not so pathetic that I can’t get up off the damned bed by myself.” He grabbed hold of the brass railing at the foot of the bed and tried to haul himself up, but his face clenched with pain and he couldn’t hold back a groan.

      “Oh, for heaven’s sake!” Her patience at an end, Maude Ann bent over and slipped her arms around his chest and tugged him upward. “You men and your stubborn pride! It doesn’t make you any less of a man to need a little help now and then, you know,” she admonished as she gently assisted him to his feet.

      “I don’t like to be a burden,” he gasped when he could catch his breath.

      “No one does, but sometimes it can’t be helped. Although, I must say, that was foolish of you to jerk me down like that. You